Cooking Class
by Midnight-in-Russia
Summary: Alphonse thinks Edward needs to get out of the house, so he signs him up for a class. Not just any class, though. COOKING class. Ed is thrown into the class full of strangers and is anything but thrilled. Will he continue the class? Eventual romance.


To say that Edward was irritated would have been an understatement. He was positively _seething_ with anger. Of course, he could never stay angry with Alphonse for a long period of time (no longer than twenty minutes), but at the moment, he could have screamed.

And he had. During the entire trip, he had screamed until his throat was raw and his voice was hoarse. Although his voice was nearly gone, he was still hurling whispered insults at his absolutely chipper brother.

He had shouted, struggled against his seatbelt, and threatened to lock Al out of their shared apartment...yet he still found himself sitting in the passenger seat of their car. He glared daggers at the passing scenery, grimacing at the sunny day. In his opinion, the weather should have reflected his mood: dark and stormy.

Ed was still in a sour mood as they reached the parking lot of a grand building. This was the only recreation center near their apartment in Manhattan. It doubled as a community center. Citizens could participate in all sorts of activities here, and nearly all of them were free of charge. The older brother huffed and glared at the white building.

"Come on, brother. It'll be fun," Al unbuckled both of their seatbelts. Ed felt the safety belt loosen around him, but he made no motion to indicate that he was getting out of the car.

"I'm not going in there, Al. Take me home," he ground out against his clenched teeth. He heard a weary sigh from beside him, but pretended he hadn't heard it.

"You see? That's the reason why I brought you here in the first place, Ed. You're _always_ at home. When you're not teaching, you just sit down and do...well..._nothing_!" Al threw his hands up to show just how exasperated he was.

"Even if I don't do anything, you have no right to sign me up for anything against my will, Alphonse!" Ed snapped back, his words harsh. When his little brother didn't respond, he sighed and looked down at his lap.

"Sorry, Al. I just.... I don't _want_ to make new friends or anything like that. That's what _you_ like to do. I'm fine being alone as long as you're with me at the end of the day."

At this, Alphonse gave a small smile. He loved hearing that his brother cared about him, but he sometimes wished that Ed could give someone else the same amount of love and attention. He wanted his brother to be happy, and he couldn't possibly be happy with the way he was living life now. He was almost completely and utterly..._alone_. And Al didn't want that for his brother.

"I'm sorry, brother...but I'm not backing down. You have to do this," Al nodded as if assuring himself before he opened the car door and stepped out into the chilly September air. Ed sat alone in the car for a moment before joining his brother.

His breath rose in a mist in front of his face, and he shivered minutely. September usually wasn't so cold in Manhattan. His nearly numb fingers tightened around his brown coat, desperately trying to block out the gusts of wind.

"It'll be warmer in there," Al's light brown eyes glanced from Ed's shivering form to the community center, trying to keep a smug smirk off of his face. His eyes softened as he watched Ed eye the place suspiciously.

_Please relax, brother. Not everyone is out to get you. Why can't you see that I'm just trying to help you?_

Al closed his eyes only to open them again as he heard a bell chime somewhere nearby. A large smile flashed across his features as he watched a blond ponytail disappear behind the closing door of the recreation center.

A minute later, the pair stood in the pristine hallway of the community center, arguing quietly. Ed was having a difficult time controlling his rage now that he was actually inside. Al knew that he was nervous. He must have been, given the circumstances. Edward was about to walk into a room of people he didn't know and didn't _want_ to know. Edward Elric had a nasty habit of taking every negative emotion he felt and molding it into anger, and Al knew it.

So, he mentally forgave his brother's harsh words and ushered his brother into the nearest room, his older brother squawking in protest. The room was full of people, but it was deathly silent. Al's stomach churned as he looked around at the room almost entirely full of men, save for one woman who appeared to be the teacher.

"Excuse me," Al spoke up, clearing his throat hastily, "but is this the cooking class?"

There were six tables in the room, and sitting around them were men of all shapes and sizes. Older men, younger men, short men, tall men, fat men, and skinny men. Only a few seats were available.

"Yes, it is," the black-haired woman stated calmly, looking back and forth between Alphonse and Edward.

"Oh, good. This is my brother, Edward," Al nudged Ed forward a little with his arm. The older of the two stiffened as his name was repeated.

"Edward," the teacher barked, "please have a seat at that table," she pointed to the table in the middle of the room. He barely felt himself nodding as he made his way toward the center of the room. He plopped down into the only vacant chair at the table and glanced around at his new group.

One of the men wore glasses. His hair was black and short, probably gelled up a bit in the front. At that moment, the man caught his gaze and sent him a friendly smile, his light green eyes twinkling. Ed sent back a reserved smile of his own; the corners of his lips barely lifted up at all.

He dimly noted that Alphonse had left without so much as a single "goodbye", but he focused on another group-mate instead of raising his temper once again. Annoying, squeaking sounds told Ed that the teacher was writing something on the whiteboard with a marker, but he wasn't very interested in what she had to say.

He studied his next group-mate. The man was humongous in stature, vertically. Only a single blond curl hovered above his forehead. The rest of his hair was missing from his head, but Ed found it on his face easily. The man had a large blond mustache that covered his entire upper lip. A hand was curled into a fist under the man's chin, as if he was thinking particularly hard about something.

The last man at the table was taking notes on the teacher's lecture. Ebony bangs tipped forward over his eyes as he wrote. He was extraordinarily pale with skin akin to porcelain. Suddenly, Ed was all-too-aware of the silence in the room. The teacher had stopped talking. There was a great rush of movement, and soon everyone was walking around the room, darting off in different directions.

Ed looked around, confused. The bespectacled man at his table stood and walked over to where he sat. Feeling short, which he was, Ed stood up and looked around.

"What's going on? Why's everyone moving?" he asked, feeling as though he was missing out something important.

"It's time to cook. Usually she," he inclined his head in the teacher's direction, "writes criteria on the board, and we have to follow it. Today's challenge is lunch."

"Oh," Ed replied, looking away. He felt awkward and suddenly unconfident with his cooking ability...or lack thereof.

"Don't worry," the bespectacled man crooned, slinging an arm around Edward's hunched shoulders, "we'll help you, won't we Roy? Alex?"

"Yes! Do not worry, young one. We will be glad to help you learn the delicate and beautiful art of cooking!" the big, blond man stood up and seemed to flex his muscles. Honey-colored eyes widened and Ed tried to back away slowly, but the bespectacled man's grip held him firmly in place.

"I'm Maes Hughes, by the way," he said, shooting a friendly grin at him.

"Edward Elric," the blond moved back to shake Maes' hand. He smiled a bit at the firm grip the man had as he shook his hand.

"I'm Roy. Roy Mustang," a velvety deep voice spoke up from beside the pair. Ed broke eye contact with Maes to look at the other man in their group.

"Edward Elric," he repeated, sticking out his right hand. The other man shook it twice and they locked eyes.

"Well, let's get cookin'," Hughes clapped and rubbed his hands together.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Ed wondered silently as he followed the men over to the stoves lining the back of the room.


End file.
